78 THE WITCHING WREN. 



steadying the same with her hand, while I, as 

 was my custom, brought up the rear. Sud- 

 denly, as we approached a pile of dead limbs 

 from a fallen tree, my friend stopped motion- 

 less, and as usual the caravan came to instant 

 halt. Without taking- her eyes from the brush 

 heap, she silently pulled the stool from the dog's 

 neck and sat down upon it. I seated myself 

 beside her, and the dog stretched himself at our 

 feet. 



"A wren," she whispered briefly, and in a 

 moment I saw it. A mother, no doubt, for her 

 mouth was full of food, and she was fidgeting 

 about on a branch, undecided as yet what she 

 should do, with that formidable array in front 

 of her very door, as it afterward turned out. 

 A wren is a quick-witted little creature, and she 

 was not long in making up her mind. She 

 flitted around us, turned our right flank (so to 

 speak), and vanished behind us. 



We took the hint, changed our front, and, 

 after the moment's confusion, subsided again, 

 gently waving our maple boughs to terrorize the 

 foe that was always with us, and keeping shai-p 

 watch while we held whispered consultation as 

 to whether that was the winter wren, and the 

 mate of our singer. 



" Oh, if she has a nest ! " said my comrade, 

 to whose home belonged these woods. " The 



